


Divine Ideas From a Demonic Mind: DC Edition

by TheDivineDemon



Series: Divine Ideas From a Demonic Mind [3]
Category: DC Comics, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-01-16 11:28:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12341778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDivineDemon/pseuds/TheDivineDemon
Summary: A series of One-shots to get rid of the over flow of ideas in my oxymoronic head. Hope you enjoy the chaos. *Mostly Superboy Centered* If you feel like doing any of these feel free, just tell and credit me. I want to see these grow.





	1. Chapter 1

I've decided to Branch out to Ao3. I Hope I'm well received.

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Title: Green Mother Pt. 1  
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Pamela Isley, aka Poison Ivy, found herself mildly interested when the guard came to her cell saying she had a visitor. She had a few every so often, varying from reporters trying to get a human interest story to an up and coming lawyer trying to make a name for themselves.

They were an amusing distraction from the usual insanity of Arkham Asylum.

A place she still firmly believes she doesn't belong. It was not insane to wish to save the planet, even if her methods were a bit extreme.

Anyway, her rather amused mood was shattered as the guard led her into one of the most private rooms. It wasn't the room itself that disturbed her, as she has been in them plenty of times before, but the occupant.

A figure clad in modern armor so dark he was a shadow in the brightly lit room. Eerie blank white eyes regarded her emotionlessly as the guard guided her to the only chair in the room.

As the guard left and the door closed Ivy found herself with enough resolve to talk to the infamous man. Not that anyone could blame her, he was the one who rather forcibly captured her. "So, Batman, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" She asked in a rather bored tone, though inside she was crushing down on a feeling of panic.

Batman regarded her blankly for a moment, no indication on his face if he was annoyed or amused. When he eventually moved Ivy let out an unconscious sigh of relief, she cursed herself a second later for showing such weakness.

"Two weeks ago there was a pseudo raid upon a Cadmus research facility. In it, we found many illicit, illegal, and morally twisted experiments throughout the facility. The most prominent being their attempt to create a Kryptonian clone."

"And what does this have to do with me?" She asked in a droll tone, interested but uncaring.

Batman's expression did not change as he placed a manila folder on the table. He did not move to open it as the red head gave it a curious glance "It was quickly proven that cloning complex alien DNA was beyond modern science but a... child was not." Pamela blinked and Batman opened the file, revealing various DNA charts and notes, "Using DNA they had collected by various means they selected the sample that would best suit the child's Kryptonian nature."

"W-why are telling me this?" She asked, hands clenching her damaged womb and a dozen thoughts racing through her mind.

"Because you have a right to know." The Dark Knight said simply, "They had no right to do what they did but you have a right to know."

The League had argued over whether or not the woman in front of him should even know about the boy's existence for days. He himself was adamant that Ivy should be allowed to know about her son, something that surprised a few of the other members but boosted the "Tell Her" position.

It also helped that every time Superman tried to say something just about every member gave him a mild to harsh glare.

Served him right for avoiding the boy since his liberation. Even if Superman didn't consider Superboy his son he should have at least attempted contact.

Family was family. Which was the whole purpose of his visit?

"I have spoken to the warden and he has agreed to allow you to keep the file." Batman said as he closed and pushed the folder towards the woman before he turned to leave "The boy doesn't know yet and if he does is entirely up to you. I'll be back in a week for your decision."

Pamela didn't even notice him leave. She just kept on staring at the manila folder in front of her.

Eventually, after she was escorted back to her room, she opened the folder and scrutinized every word.

Though not her specialty she was well versed in genetics, even if it was only a fleeting hobby even at the best of times. This allowed her to understand half the babble and graphs on the papers in front of her.

Project Kr they called it, him, and their end goal of the project was to create a weapon. One that could handle or replace Superman depending on their needs.

Unfortunately for them, they were unable to create a stable fully Kryptonian clone. Modern science, modern human science, just wasn’t good enough. A side note from one researcher described trying to understand such advanced DNA was like an American preschooler trying to read a book on advanced physics in Chinese.

And so, using a very similar analogy, some jerk decided to use ‘translators’ to bring the DNA down to something they could understand. By using G-Nome modifiers, something they were already used in bulk on other clones to enhance physical traits, they would be able to bridge the gap between human and alien but there would still be much lost in translation.

To make up for that they decided they need meta-human DNA to make up the difference. And apparently, she was in the top five, tied only with Wonder Woman who lost out because scientist couldn’t make heads or tails of the magic present in the amazon.

They though her body’s natural ability to photosynthesize would complement the child’s Kryptonian solar based abilities, maybe even unlock what was lost or make what he did gain stronger. They were also hoping that her immunity to toxins would give the boy some reprieve from the effects of kryptonite.

Pamela for a moment didn’t know what to think as she looked at the three DNA models represented on the page. She could see what the researchers meant when they said Superman’s DNA was too complex for them. She couldn’t make heads or tails of it herself but that still didn’t give them the right to use her like that.

To take her blood and grow a child without her consent or knowledge, it was just sickening. But at the same time, pass the disgust and anger, there were tiny sparks of emotions.

After the accident that made her Poison Ivy she had learned she could never bare children. Her womb was too damaged by the chemicals that had given her her amazing powers and that fact left her devastated for a good long while.

But now a group of men with a god complex gave her something she thought she could never have.

And all these feeling and emotions finally started to leak out as she turned the page and saw a picture of him. A young dark haired teen with inhuman crystal blue eyes frowning at the camera.

He looked so much like his biological father but she could see it. The bits of her just peeking through, the shape of his eyes, the slant of his nose, the curve of his ears, it was her, it was all her’s.

Tears started to fall from her eyes as she traced these features as it finally seemed to sink in.

She had a son.

But she had to wonder with such a mighty and awe-inspiring good doer for a father would the boy even want to know her?

 

-0-0-0-0-0-  
AN:

I can honestly won't lie, I like the whole "Lex is Connor's human donor" deal. In the comics they play it so well how both his donor's are like his devil and angel on his shoulders and he constantly compares himself to the two. But if I was a scientist trying to outdo and eventually replace Superman and I couldn't make a stable full Kryptonian clone I would not use a normal human. No matter who was paying the bill.

They would want the DNA the best complemented the Kryptonian and had a higher chance of adding additional abilities to replace the ones that might be lost from the hybrid DNA.

Anyway, I think the character interactions and developments from this would be interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack Wynard just wanted a nice quiet place to raise his daughters and Smallville Kansas seemed like a good spot for just that.
> 
> BioShock/DC AU

It’s more of a prologue than anything else but we all need to start somewhere. Hope you guys enjoy.

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Working title: Haven  
-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Jack was beginning to think that buying the farm was a mistake was a mistake. It wasn’t the house’s fault, it was actually in pretty great shape and thankfully had enough room for his family. And it certainly wasn’t the land, as the patch of corn that the previous owner had started was coming in fine.

No, what was making jack regret his decision was that he had no clue what he was doing. He had thought it would have come easily to him. That he could rely on hazy memories to see him through. But he found himself sorely mistaken as he looked over the various farm tools displayed out before him

Maybe he should have just gone to a city, took a job in some factory and try to scrounge by a living on that. Though he supposed it was too late to complain about it now. His savings were spent and they had already moved out to the middle of the country.

At least they were away from the damned ocean.

What eased his worries about the situation, more than anything else, was the sound that was coming from just outside the barn. The sound his little girls playing, a round of tag if Susie’s indignant squawk was any clue. It was an amazing sound to hear.

Even as days turned to weeks and months his girls still hadn’t lost their amazement for the world around them. They still hadn’t grown tired of the grass, of the wing, of the sky. It brought a pleasant, bright, feeling to his heart knowing that he helped bring those smiles to their faces. That he could keep bringing those smiles to their faces…

But that bright feeling stalled dead in his chest when he heard their laughter quiet and little feet rushing towards the barn. Grabbing a wrench off the workbench Jack rose to meet them halfway.

“Papa Jack!” His eldest, Sally, called as the five of them stormed passed the barn doors. “A car’s coming!”

When he raised a single eyebrow another of his daughters, Masha, amended her sister’s statement, “For real this time!”

It wasn’t until he heard tires on gravel that he fully believed his girls. Through no fault of their own, they were nervous around people.

Jack couldn’t say he was much better.

Making his way to the door he gestured to girls to wait behind as he went out to meet their would be guest. His timing was apparently impeccable as a rather worn truck had just pulled up. A moment later a kindly looking couple stepped out of the vehicle with smiles on their faces.

“Good morning!” A man well into his fifties greeted as he exited the car, his smile warm but a bit wary as he eyed Jack’s wrench. “Though we’d come down and greet you now that you’re starting to settle in.”

“Maybe even give you a treat to snack on as you finish setting things up.” The woman, who had to be the man’s wife, held up a delicious smelling pie interestingly

He smiled at their friendliness, feeling at ease enough to pocket his wrench and walk towards his apparent neighbors. The gesture seemed to ease the man as he smiled wider and stepped forward with his hand extended.

“Johnathan Kent. This is my wife Martha. We live just up the way.” The two men gripped hands, Jack measuring his strength carefully as they did.

“Jack. Wynand.” He said, wincing at the Kent’s not so subtle reactions to his voice.

“You okay there son? Your voice sounds a bit rough.” Jonathan said rather bluntly.

Jack, both grateful for the bluntness and used to the question itself, pulled at the collar of his shirt, “Plane crash.” He explained simply as he let the examine his scarred throat.

“Oh my,” Martha breathed out, believing his half truth with ease. “Are you recovering well? Is it okay for you to talk?”

Smiling he nodded his head. “Yes. Recovering. Can’t say much but can.”

“That’s good to hear son, better to see that you made it out of such a thing in one piece, for the most part.”

“Lucky.”

“I’ll say… Now if you don't mind me asking where are you from Jack?”

“New York.” At least that’s where he spent the last two years of his life anyway.

“Any experience with farming?”

“Younger. Been awhile.”

Jonathan hummed, “Well, at least you’re off to a better start than the last bunch who bought this old place. I’m surprised they had any crops grow at all. Too many city folks come down here and thinking the farm life is easy to work.” Jonathan stopped himself, realizing he was getting into a bit of a rant. “ *ahem* All the same, if you need a bit of help or advice just give us a shout.”

Jack sagged in relief at those words, “Thank you.”

“And maybe we could set up a playdate or two?” Martha said, peering over Jack’s shoulder. “Out Clark looks about your daughters’ ages, or at least close enough.”

Following her eyes to the sight behind him, Jack saw his little girls peering around the barn doors, causing him to let out a deep whale like sigh.One moment they're scared the next they are curious. Such were children he supposed.

“Maybe.” He answered honestly and unsurely. He wasn’t certain how well the girls would get along with normal children. “They skittish. Survived crash too. Adopted them.”

The Kents quickly understood his implied meaning, and they surprised him again. “Oh, those poor dears. Our Clark is adopted too, though we got him when he was much younger than your girls. We know how much a handful a child can be, I can only imagine how much juggling you're doing with so many. If you need any help, any help at all, come to us.”

Jack wished he could have expressed how grateful he was for the offer. To say how much he needed such advice. Unfortunately, he had to make do with a “Thank you.”

He hoped it conveyed enough.

-0-0-0-0-0-  
AN:  
After the good end of Bioshock Jack decides to get as far away from the horror beneath the ocean as he could get them. To Smallville Kansas. Not like anything weird could happen there, right?

The name of Jack’s daughters. Sally, Susie, Masha, Leta and Adelaide.

Thoughts? Suggestions? Opinions?


	3. Patterns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a pattern to it. A child empowered by an experiment, two fathers with conflicting ideology, and a city only found by a lighthouse. The Multiverse made it happen, Conner just didn't know it.
> 
> Young Justice/Bioshock series

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Patterns: Prologue  
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“Welcome back!” The barista all but cheered as he approached the counter, “You here for your usual?”

Conner gave her a bit of a strained smile, “Yes, please.”

“No problem!” She tapped away at her computer screen only pausing for a brief second to advertise the store's new treat, “Would you like to try our Superman Cookies? They’re are wicked tasty.”

Conner took a moment to appreciate the irony of a Superman cookie being displayed behind glass whose corner displaying a ‘Lexcorp family store’ proudly. “I’m fine… Thank you.”

“She gave him another smile and finished entering his order. After he handed over the requested amount Conner went off to claim a table for himself and ponder why he kept on torturing himself every week by coming to that coffee shop.

Maybe it had become a habit? Maybe it was because he was still trying to look for clues to who just who he really was?Or maybe it was because he really did like the coffee and apple tarts there?

Whatever the real reason was he still found himself at the same corner coffee shop in Metropolis once again. And, once again, he found himself brooding as he stared out into the streets. He had found the shop not too long after Robin had explained the Zeta Beam system to him and where they could go.

He had, he had thought that he could come to Metropolis and maybe force Superman to talk to him. That maybe his presence in the man’s home ground would make him finally act, to finally share more than a few sentences with him. But it never happened.

Even when he tried to help him, to show that he could be a hero too with just a bit of guidance, the hero had brushed him off.

And then, out of the blue, Lex Luthor came into his life. Telling him that what he previously believed was wrong. That he wasn’t a clone of Superman, but a hybrid child made not just from Superman but from Lex himself as well.

It had only been a couple of weeks since he had learned the news and he still couldn't properly process it. What it meant. How a few words could control him. And wonder who he could become more alike too.

“Kent!” The name cut through his thoughts and made him snap his head up. “Your order is ready.”

As he picked up his order his eyes drifted towards the display window. It was funny how it reminded him or himself, of Metropolis.

Who influenced them more?

Superman or Lex Luthor?

Maybe he should make a list. Divide what he did and see what actions reflected Superman… and which reflected Lex Luthor.

He wondered which one liked their coffee black.

“I, uh, hello.” A young woman in a blue dress said as she took the seat across from him at the table, her blue eyes examining him in a way that reminded him of a child seeing something for the first time. A look of pure curiosity that himself has worn plenty of times in the last handful of months. “I’m not, I had to talk to you.”

“Why.”

She brushed a non-existent strand of brown hair behind her ear, settling herself down from whatever she was feeling. “I’m not sure if I should even be doing this but I had to know. I had to talk to someone like me.”

Conner found himself sitting a bit straighter at her words, his mind whirling as it tried to decipher her meaning. “Like you?”

“I… hmmm.” She bit her lip and looked down for a moment. “Tell if this sounds familiar to you. There once was a city shaped by a man’s dreams, by his ambition. He ruled over it in all but name, until another man came along.

“Something about this person put the man on the edge, something about their presence putting the man’s rule in jeopardy. They would war their city bloody, to a stalemate where no one truly wins, especially not the city. And then a child is born from their conflict.

A product of both men, a weapon to be used to end their squabbles…” She paused to look at him, her voice leading as if she already knew the answer to her next question. “Does this sound familiar?”

“How do you, what do you want.” He just barely stopped himself from moving. From standing, from smashing the table. He was in no mood for mind games, he never was. “How do you know all that.”

She smiled, “Because I lived it, and so have at least two others. The people and places may change but the story stays relatively the same. It’s all about Constants and Variables. The Multiverse is funny that way.”

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“It all comes down to three things in our stories. There is always a Lighthouse. There is always a Man. And there is always a City.”

“A Lighthouse, a Man, what are you talking about.”

“The Constants. You know the Man, you know the City, but you haven’t found the Lighthouse. That’s what makes you special, you’re the version of us that hasn’t had it start yet. The Ace, the Lamb, the Project. I'm doing this so that at least one of us can have the warning.” She almost looked sad as she said this. “I’m not sure it will matter, what’s done is done and what’s done will be done, but I had to try. At least this once I should try.”

She stood and moved to leave, Conner stood to follow her but was stunned in his tracks as the world seemed to open in front of the woman. Like a doorway with frames made of television static, a distortion appeared that showed a very similar dinner on the other side. Different people, different time of day, but they could have been the same at a passing glance.

A glance that no one else in either coffee shop seemed to willing to give. The woman seemed to pay it no mind as she stepped through the rip in reality. She gave him one last glance as the edges started to shrink away.

“Beware the Lighthouse, Conner. And I’m sorry.”

 

AN:  
Young Justice/Bioshock crossover based on the idea that Conner share many similarities with Bioshock such as Jack and Elizabeth (Eleanor too I guess). A child with two parents (two dads in most cases) is used as an experiment and then used as a weapon against one of the parents.

Further plot is already and easily being panned out in my head for the lighthouse and further plot. But I'm willing to take suggestions.

Thoughts?


	4. Foolish Mask (DC/Persona)

Foolish Mask (DC/Persona)

Chapter 1: From One Circus To Another

-April 14th, 2010-  
-Afternoon

'Home was where the heart is’

Dick had never put much stock or thought into that saying, just taking it as it was at face value. But it certainly explained the hollow and empty feeling that filled his chest as he emptied out his train cabin.

It was a tiny little room, with all the size and accommodations of a jail cell, but it was his. It had been his birthday present from back.when he turned thirteen, he could still remember the smile.on his parents’ faces as they and Jack gave him the key. Wide, bright, and eyes crinkling as he cheered over his new slice of independence.

Despite his newfound privacy, he was rarely alone in little room, the other circus kids becoming constant guest as they all but declared it their new hangout. He didn't mind, not even when his parents kept barging in with their constant and frequent visits with barely a knock on the door.

But, over the last few days, he could barely find it in himself to look at the room much less stay in it. Too many memories filled that empty room. If he hadn't had to grab his things he probably would never have opened that door again, but there he was.

He moved across the room as fast as he could, like a hurricane he swept by and left shelves bare as he stuffed his duffle bags full. He was in the process of cramming some more clothes in when there was a knock at on the door.

“Hey, kid… Almost done?” Jack Haley asked, looking as out of place as could be. As a former clown and current Ringmaster, Dick was used to everything about the man, from his voice to his clothes, to be bright and bombastic. Muted colors and somber tones just didn't suit the man.

“Not yet,” Dick said with a shake if his head, “I just started.”

“Just started?” Jack repeated, not bothering to hide his surprise as he took a step into the room and looked around, “Kid, you went to pack up hours ago. What's taking you so long?”

Dick paused, a hand filled with socks freezing mid-air as the question was asked. Not for long, one couldn't even call it a seconds worth of hesitation, but it was enough. Jack Haley was good at reading people, could read them as if they were the morning paper, and knew Dick well enough to guess what happened.

“Aw, damn it, Dick. You should have asked. Someone would have at least gone with ya.” He said, placing a hand on the teen's shoulder. 

He didn't turn to look at the man but he didn't shake him off either.”I just needed to grab something. It's not a big deal.”

It was a framed news article to be exact, the one from his first show. A picture of him flying through the air as he was thrown from his father it his mother's waiting arms with a title that boldly read “The Grayson Apple Doesn't Fall From the Tree”.

Only it did.

They fell, they fell hard. The two urns in their cabin we're proof of that. The whole tree had toppled over and he was left with the sound of a twisting crunch that wouldn't leave his ear. It had been over a week since the incident and he could still hear the sound of them hitting the ground. It just kept replaying, a constant loop that was often times accompanied by the sight of red seeping goo.

Jack was having none of that, turning the teen around to look him in the eye and keeping mighty hands on his shoulders. “You listen to me Richard Grayson, it is a big deal. Your parents died for God's sake and you're trying to deal with it on your own. We're here for you Dick.”

“Is that why you're getting rid of me?” He demanded, blue eyes fierce as he tried and failed to shrug off Jack's grip. “Selling me off.to some old guy is you being there for me!?”

“Nobody is selling anybody!” Jack snapped, “And no one's getting rid of you. It's just… It’s just this place ain’t doing you no good, Dickie.” Jack said averting his gaze for the briefest of seconds, grudgingly saying the words, “You haven’t been sleeping or eating right since it happened, don’t deny it. We’ve all noticed, even little Raya noticed.”

Dick was the one to look away this time.

“Look, I get it. You’ve been living not even a hundred feet from where it happened. That would mess anyone up.” He said, not unkindly, “And it’s not going to do you any good to stay here while the police investigate everything.”

Dick gritted his teeth, “They don’t need to investigate! They KNOW who did it! I told them!”

“And they’re looking for that Zucco guy.” Jack said placatingly, raising a hand in a soothing gesture, “Until then we’re stuck here, court ordered to and we can’t do anything about that. But we can make sure you’re not. You need some space and time to recover, being here is not going to help you.”

“But I don’t want to go.” He said, “This is my home.”

“And it always will be kid.” Jack said, pulling him into a hug, “As long as I’m here this will always be your home. And once you turn eighteen I’ll gladly hire you. But right now you’re a kid that needs a place to stay that won’t mess you up, and Wayne is offering that.”

“And a bunch of money,” Dick said, ending the hug, accusation in his eyes.

“I’m not going to deny that. Rumors spread and they got truth in them.” Jack said, crossing his arms. “But it ain’t cause I’m selling you to him, so get that stupid thought out your head. I looked into the guy and I think he just gets where we’re coming from, you at least, and wants to help.”

“He gets me?” Dick scoffed but Jack didn’t so much as flinch. He only shrugged.

“It’s his business but I’m sure he’ll tell you. It’s not exactly a secret.” Jack took a minute. “Look, if he tries anything you call me right away and me and the boys will come and get you. But if I’ve got the right read on this guy he just wants to help and already promised to look after you right. Already got you enrolled in the best school in town and everything.”

“Mr. Murphy is a great teacher.”

“He is but his name doesn’t open the doors to the Ivy leagues like Gotham Academy can.”

They stood in silence for a minute, Dick still holding a handful of socks. “So, did you just came in here to check on me or…”

“Eh, that Wayne guy’s butler is here but he can wait as long as it takes for you to get your stuff sorted.”

“He sent his butler?”

“And a pretty fancy car too.” Jack said with a nod, “Rich guys I guess. Now do you need help packing or are you fine on your own?”

“I, no. I’m good. Just give me a few minutes.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting right outside.”

Not ten minutes later the two of them were walking off the train, each with a duffle bag over their shoulder, and were walking towards the fancy black car that seemed to be gaining a fair sized crowd of circus folk. Though, despite the various gazes that ranged from curious to hostile, the man standing by the car door remained unflapped.

He wore a crisp black suit with white gloves clasped in front of him and grey hair hidden under a drivers cap. Despite his obvious advancing age his posture was perfect, his back as straight as his immaculately kept pencil mustache. And while he didn’t give the crowd of carnies a second glance his gaze zoomed in on the approaching figures, sharp eyes turning kind as they got closer.

“Ah, Master Grayson I presume.” His British accent taking Dick by surprise, despite the stereotype. 

“Uh, Yeah.” He didn’t really know what else to say.

“Alfred Pennyworth, at your service. Mr. Wayne is currently indisposed, I’m here to take you to the manor in his stead. Are you ready to leave or would you like more time?”

“I,” He looked around, scanning the faces around him. The faces he knew all his life. He already said his goodbyes but that didn’t stop him from giving, and receiving, several hugs. “Okay, I’m good now.”

“Excellent.” He said, holding back door open for him, “Now, right this way, please. I’ll take your bags.”

As the door closed behind him Dick could just barely hear the butler say, “We’ll take care of him.” followed by Jack’s much louder response, “You better!”

Driving away from the Haley’s was more painful than he thought it would be, watching even the big top shrink by the ever increasing distance before disappearing completely from sight by twisting landscapes. He tried to tell himself that he wasn’t leaving forever, that he was going to be back. If not after Zucco was arrested then when he was eighteen and could officially join the circus. 

But something about him leaving felt final. Like he was never going to be able to go back. That Haley's Circus would never have another Flying Grayson.

He smothered a sniff and wiped his nose.

“Master Grayson,” The Butler, Pennyworth, said from the driver’s seat. “If you would like you could take a quick nap. It’s going to take a bit of time to reach Wayne Manor I’m afraid. Afternoon traffic can be a bit of a bother.”

“I’ll think about it.” He said definitely, wanting to stay awake despite the temptation. Gotham city was going to be his home for a while after all, he might as well get a look at it.

He almost wished he hadn’t.

Rain started to pelt on the car roof at what seemed like the exact second they entered the city proper, muting the already bleak colors he was seeing. Everything from the buildings to the people seemed to be shrouded in the same bleak shades of brown, grey, and black. People walked with shuffling feet and their heads down, not even looking at phones or papers just looking down at their shoes.

Maybe it was the weather but it seemed like something else to Dick.

The buildings were no better. Where other cities he’s been too, like New York or Metropolis, had buildings that seemed like they were reaching for the sky Gotham’s buildings just loomed. As if they were made solely to look down upon people and cast them in a shadow.

Which, going by the gothic designs he was seeing everywhere, could have been the attention. Near every building had a gargoyle peeking over its ledge, rain making them into cry monstrosities that peered down at the streets.

It was depressing. He couldn’t imagine why people would ever want to live there. Then again, he couldn’t imagine wanting to live in the same place for more than a few weeks at a time so maybe he was being unfair.

Still, it was an ugly city and he didn’t regret falling into the lull of a rocking car and the patter of falling rain.

But his sleep didn’t last long.

He was jolted awake by an unknown sensation and left him standing in a room made of velvet canvas. The lights were dim but he could see enough.

He’s been in one enough times to recognize the room fro what it was. He was in the entrance to a big top, the foyer right before the main stage.

How did he get there?

Did the Butler drug him?

“Welcome to the Velvet Room.” A voice said, snapping his attention to the far end of the room. There, sitting in the ticket booth, was the oddest man that Dick had ever seen. And coming from a member of the Circus folk that was saying something.

Large bulbous, bloodshot, eyes framed a comically long nose that settled between a too wide smile and much too thin grey hair. His body was oddly proportioned, his limbs were long and spidery while his back was slumped nearly like a hunchback. Despite his odd appearance he dressed remarkably well, nearly identical to the Butler in fact with his crisp black suit and white gloves.

What Dick wanted to know was how did he, and that extravagant Ticketbooth of his, got there. They weren’t there a second ago, Dick was sure of that, but then suddenly they were. It was an impressive trick to be sure.

“My name is Igor, and I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.” The man said before Dick could get out a word, leaning forward onto his interlocked gloved hands as he looked the teen over with his frozen smile. “Not quite an expected guest but I am delighted nonetheless.”

“Where am I? How did I get here?”

The man’s smile seemed to grow, though it didn’t move an inch, as he spread his arms wide, “This place exists between dream and reality, between mind and matter. Usually to enter one must sign a contract but you are a most unusual case!” The man said as he clasped his hands in front of him again, “A recommendation of all things.”

The long nosed man let out an amused laugh as if he couldn’t believe such an event actually happened.

“Someone recommended I come here?”

“Yes,” He said, drawing out the word. “Though the man’s power holds no true sway here is words are to be respected. He saw potential in you and I must say, he wasn’t wrong. What a Wild Card you shall be young jester. I can sense a great destiny in you. Let’s have a brief look, shall we?”

With a flick of his wrist, a deck of Tarot Cards appeared in his hand. Dick had to admit, it was an impressive slide of hand but he wanted no part in it.

“I’m good, I really don’t need a reading.” He said with memories of Haley’s fortune teller and how she liked to mess with his head flashing across his mind.

“Oh, but I insist.” The man said, ignoring his wishes, quickly shuffling and dealing out three cards. He flipped over the leftmost one, “An upside down Sun, an bright childhood come to an abrupt end. My condolences. But the lessons you’ve learned during these times will prove invaluable.”

He flipped the next card, Dick finding himself entranced, “And you are likely to find a use for these lessons learned soon, the Fool, the start of a new journey, more than you’d expect I’d wager.” He chuckled to himself as he flipped the last card. “But making connections can help you see you’re way through this ordeal.”

“And what awaits you in the future is the night, The Moon, upright. Fear and anxiety await you but with a clear mind and true friends perhaps you can overcome what is to come.”

With a wave of his hand a flash of blue fire the cards disappeared. “A difficult journey to be sure, and at the recommendation you received, a contract can be formed. Allowing for me and my assistants to assist you in honing your growing abilities.”

“Assistants?”

“You will meet them and the services the shall render soon enough, this was quite an unexpected visit after all. Until then,” A bright blue ticket popped out of the counter slot and was quickly torn free by Igor’s deft fingers, “We await for the show to begin.”

Igor let out another laugh, even as Dick took the offered ticket and the lights dimmed to darkness.

 

AN:  
So, this is just the rough draft but I hope you enjoyed the peek at this idea (Though I’m debating scrapping the first half as I don’t think the Circus is going to play a large role outside the trial).

Right now I’m still planning the fic, compiling my notes and building a timeline while I hammer out the plot. I know, roughly, the targets and true villains both mid and big but I’m stumbling over a few things. Might have to look for someone later to help me out *is hopeful*.

Anyway, again, I hope you enjoyed! Please tell me what you think and feel free to criticize and give opinions!


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